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I had an imaginary friend that I never told anybody about when I was 7. He was named Jackson, and "we" liked to play pranks on my younger brother. I never EVER told my family about him because I was afraid if they knew about him helping me pull pranks, he would be sent away. One day, I was in the kitchen with my brother and my mom (and Jackson) and I was looking out the window. I had a habit of lying to get out of trouble, and my parents did not believe me sometimes, even when I was telling the truth. There was a loud crash that broke the silence of the normal day and as all heads snapped towards the source, we saw a toy that had been flung across the room. I knew it must have been my brother that threw it because it came from his direction, yet he blamed it on me, and despite my innocence, I was punished and sent to my room.

Later that night, my little brother came into my room and appologized, and he said "Sorry I lied. Jackson threw the zord (it was a power rangers toy) but Mom can't see him so I blamed you instead". I was stunned, and even as a seven year old, the horror struck me. My little brother just blamed his actions on my imaginary friend that not a soul knew about. I remember trying to "ask Jackson" why he did that and how my brother knew, but after that incident, I was never able to imagine him in a way that I believed he was there, so I never got to "talk with him" about it.